Every Night
by Lovable Ange
Summary: Post The Gift, Pre 6th season. Spike copes with the death of Buffy and feels it just might drive him mad.


Title: Every Night  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Genre: Angst  
  
Description: This takes place in the time between the 5th and 6th season. Spike deals with the death of Buffy.  
  
A/N: I know it's short but read and review anyway, please. I know it's probably been done before but I watched The Gift today and I felt like writing this. I hope you like it.  
  
***  
  
"DAWN!" called Spike as he saw the Doctor approaching her.  
  
"Spike! Help!" Dawn cried back, "Hurry!"  
  
"Hold on, bit!" He shouted as he continued up the stairs. His boots thudded against the metal beneath him and he tackled the Doctor to the ground.  
  
"Her will shall be done no matter what!" exclaimed the Doctor. He thrust the knife into Spike's arm. He strained to get away from the peroxide blond vampire and let out a slight yelp as he got punched in the face.  
  
Spike let out a growl and put his hand on the chin of his opponent. No matter how much the Doctor struggled and slashed him with his long lizard- like tongue Spike kept trying and trying until he heard a loud, sickening crack.  
  
The man went limp beneath him and Spike sprang to his feet. He took the knife from his arm and tossed it off of the tower.  
  
"Spike!" Dawn said with a smile on her face, "You did it!"  
  
"Yeah, but there's still Glory to deal with," He panted as he started to untie The Key. When the knots came free he held his bleeding arm and the two descended down the stairs of the tower.  
  
"You got her! You saved Dawn," Giles said breathlessly as he ran up to them.  
  
"Yeah, an' Glory? Where is the hell-bitch?" asked Spike.  
  
"I-she's been dealed with," replied the retired watcher. He took his glasses off and cleaned them with the bottom of his sweater.  
  
"Righ'. So crisis averted, right? No more apocalypse?" Spike asked.  
  
Giles smiled and nodded.  
  
"Dawn!" a voice from behind called.  
  
Dawn turned and shouted out, "Buffy!"  
  
Spike turned to see the Slayer smiling widely and holding her arms out as her sister ran into them. The two embraced for a moment until Buffy's gaze drifted up to see Spike standing there holding his arm.  
  
She let go of her sister and said "Hold on for a second."  
  
Spike gave her a modest smile and shrugged a bit as if it were no big deal that he had just saved her sister * and * the world. He put his hands in his pockets and waited to see why she was now headed towards him.  
  
"Spike," She said in a low tone, "You saved her."  
  
"I was just doin' what you asked me to, love," he answered.  
  
"I know." She said.  
  
They stood looking at each other until both of them felt the impulse to lean in and kiss. The kiss mystified Spike. Her lips on his. The sheer feelings it gave him. He felt as if he had come back to life somehow even though he knew it wasn't possible.  
  
*** Spike sat up sharply his eyes wide and his mouth open. He bit his lip a little and rolled off of his bed.  
  
'Another dream,' he thought.  
  
It was the same kind of dreams every night, but every time he saved Buffy a different way. Once he kicked the knife away from The Doc, once he pulled The Doc down as he fell off the tower, and even once he saved Dawn before she fell into Glory's clutches.  
  
Every night it was a different dream, but all the same meaning.  
  
He should have run just a little bit faster. Fought a little bit harder. He shouldn't have had that moment of remorse just before he was thrown off of the tower like a rag-doll by the old man. He shouldn't have wasted time fighting off the lunatics. He should have just gone straight up the tower when Buffy was kicking Glory's ass.  
  
But what he should have done wasn't the same as what he did. He tried, but he didn't, he couldn't, save Buffy.  
  
He stood up and looked around the dump that was his crypt. He rubbed his red eyeballs and grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniels from his bedside table and found that it was half-full.  
  
"Bleedin' liquor store," Spike groaned. They had limited the amount of alcohol he could purchase the night before. Three bottles of Jack Daniels and six pack of bottled beer. He killed it all in one night.  
  
Usually this type of drinking would give alcohol poisoning to a normal person, but on the other hand , Spike wasn't even a person, therefore, he was immune to the dangers of drinking.  
  
His heavy drinking habits had sent him into an alcohol-induced coma, but that was what he called sleep. He could never fall asleep without a little something to help him out. Whenever he tried to sleep normally he just thought of that fateful night the Slayer's life ended.  
  
He made his way through the lower level of his crypt and he approached the ladder leading upstairs. He climbed it slowly, liquor bottle still in hand, and stumbled when he reached the upper level.  
  
He saw the flowers he'd bought for Buffy on his way home from the liquor store. Yellow roses meant true love. That's how he his attraction to the Slayer. He loved her as truly and deeply as anyone else could. He loved her more than he loved Drusilla, and that was saying something.  
  
Buffy never thought he could measure up to Angel. That's not true. Spike loved her more than Angel ever did. He loved her without a soul. Angelus, on the other hand, had a deep loathing for the Slayer. If Spike had a soul he would love her with all of it.  
  
Spike let out a little breath as he grasped the flowers tightly in his hand. He grabbed his trench coat from where it lay on top of his chair and he slipped it on. Slowly, he walked out of his crypt and shut the door behind him.  
  
His eyes scanned the graves as he passed them. He wished that he could be in one of them. Possibly, if he was lucky enough, he could be tortured in hell along with Buffy. At least he'd be able to see her.  
  
Then again there was the Buffy bot. He could barely stand to look at it anymore because it looked far too much like his lost love. He had used it for perverse things and now he wishes he could take back even placing an order for it. He had had Willow program all of the love for him from it, but sometimes it slipped up. Sometimes it stared at him and smiled fondly, which made him feel horrible for exploiting the Slayer's likeness like that.  
  
He approached her grave and knelt down next to it. He set down the roses among the mass of flowers set on the mound of dirt. The grass hadn't grown over quite yet seeing that it had only been 2 weeks since her funeral.  
  
He wasn't able to go to the funeral because the Scoobie Gang decided to have it during the day. He still resented them for it, but he figured it was up to them, seeing that he wasn't really that important to her.  
  
He took a swig of the amber fluid and it left a burning trail in his throat. He pressed his lips together as he tilted the bottle and poured some of his beloved J.D. onto the dirt.  
  
"I know ya couldn't really handle the alcohol when you were alive, but maybe it'll do ya some good now, love," He murmured down to the grave.  
  
His steel-colored eyes filled with tears, but he held them back. He shook his head, trying to clear the emotions from his head, and after a moment he thought the pain had gone away. It hadn't.  
  
He heard a rustling of leaves behind him and narrowed his eyes. He just knew it was a demon coming to deface the Slayer's tombstone. He set his bottle down and turned around.  
  
Instead of a big slimy demon he saw Dawn standing there with a single rose in her hand. Probably something she nicked from someone's garden or something. He loosened up and then plopped back down on the ground. He grabbed his bottle and took another swig.  
  
" 'ello, pet," He said in a very repressed tone. He scooted over when he saw Dawn lowering herself down to the ground.  
  
She sat down next to him and let out a little breath. A little mist escaped her mouth because of the warm air coming out of her.  
  
"What're you doing here this late in the night?" Spike asked her after a moment of complete silence.  
  
"The same you're doing. I'm just trying to be close to her," Dawn's eyes turned toward the ground.  
  
She put her hand on her stomach. She lifted her sweater up a bit and showed that her cuts were still there, but they were just merely little scrapes now.  
  
"Do ya think they're gonna scar?" he asked. He wasn't sure how deep the cuts had been. He was on the ground groaning and sputtering from being tossed off of the large turret.  
  
"I don't know," she said.  
  
He took a swig of his alcohol and leaned against the tombstone.  
  
"Can I--?" she blinked a little as she looked at the bottle.  
  
"Definitely not," he said, "Buffy would--" He paused, but then corrected himself, "Willow an' Tara would have m' guts for garters."  
  
Dawn lowered her eyes, "I just want something to make the pain go away."  
  
"Bit," he said, "This won't make the pain go away--"  
  
"I know but I can't stand feeling like this!" She said as tears burst from her eyes, "It's all my fault that Buffy's gone! I could have fought him off or something."  
  
"No it's not, Dawn," Spike insisted firmly, "It was mine. * I * could've fought him off. I didn't. I let myself get tossed offa the bloody tower."  
  
The two were silent and they both sat there just looking down to their feet. Spike gulped a bit and set down the bottle.  
  
"Sometimes.when I get home from school I sometimes walk in the door and see Buffy-bot and I think it's her," Dawn uttered. Her tears continued to fall down her cheeks, "And when I can't sleep.I go into her.its room and just look at it. Like it's her."  
  
Spike pressed his lips together, "I'm sorry you lost 'er."  
  
"You lost her too, Spike," Dawn said.  
  
They sat there for a moment.  
  
"I miss her so much," she sobbed, putting her head on Spike's shoulder. She shook a bit and felt Spike's arm wrap around her.  
  
"I know," his voice cracked and he choked down the lump in his throat, "I know."  
  
Spike just sat there swept over by emotion. He held the girl tightly in his arms and pressed his lips together as a tear finally escapes him. He closes his eyes and feels Dawn's warm tears seeping through his shirt and onto his marble-cold skin.  
  
She stopped sobbing to ask, "How often do you do this?  
  
Spike was caught by surprise by her question but he answered, none the less. "I do this evr'y night," He said, "I just come out here. Well, I do it evr'y night I'm not with you."  
  
"You don't have to not do it on the nights you're with me," Dawn stated, sniffling a bit. Her eyes were just as red as Spike's now and she gave him a little smile.  
  
"I guess we could do it together," Spike said.  
  
"I'd like that," Dawn replied.  
  
The two stayed up all of that night talking about Buffy. Dawn even told Spike a few things about school and such. Spike felt much better about being sad about Buffy. At least, now he knew he wasn't the only one crying every night and wishing that she was back.  
  
He knew he could deal with the pain a little better now.  
  
: So.if you got this far drop me a line and tell me how much you liked/disliked it. Please.be gentle though. 


End file.
